Gematrail — Echo Observer — Lævateinn Chapter 9: Echo07 – The Rainbow Bridge

Read chapter 9 of Gematrail — Echo Observer — Lævateinn by ⛰️ Mt.Kongou_Ragnarok on NovelPedia.

↓↓↓ Click here ↓↓↓ 📀 the soundtrack and theme songs 💿 🎶🎧 Spotify 🎧🎶 track Num : 13 Where am I…? Is this a dream? The sensation was precise: as if the thread of his consciousness had been severed at one end and re-threaded onto the loom of somewhere else entirely. He was standing in a garden. Not a garden that had grown — one that had been composed, with the patience of someone who understood that beauty requires decisions. The brick path beneath his feet was hard and cool, each edge deliberate. And the air — thick with the exhalation of wet flowers, heavy enough to reach the back of the brain — was the sweetest thing he had ever involuntarily inhaled. In the depths of the labyrinthine green, a girl stood watching him. “Finally. I was wondering when you’d show up, stranger. ” A slight tilt of the head. “My sister’s been waiting.” “Who are you?” “Doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you need to go help her.” Ayaka. The memory detonated — the iron taste at the back of his throat, the impact of her body shielding his, pain re-running itself through every nerve that had been involved. “Where is Ayaka—” “Calm down. Walk and talk. Keep up.” She turned and moved deeper into the green, carrying herself with the unhurried ease of someone who had never needed to rush. “What is this place?” “Mm. My consciousness, more or less. What some people might call a fixed boundary realm.” “Are you on my side?” “Oh — right, you’re operating as an amnesiac at the moment.” She glanced back, something unreadable in her expression. “You speak like someone who already knows the answer.” “You talk like you know who I was.” “Well, yes. Because the sister you’re about to meet — she’s something like a mother to you.” “Blood relation?” “Metaphor. Your ability exists because of her.” She stopped and turned fully toward him, and when her eyes found his from close range, they carried a weight that her casual delivery had been concealing. “When you ruled this world — once, before all of this — people called her a goddess. She is extraordinary. Don’t waste her time.” “I don’t understand what’s happening to this world.” She turned away again. For just a moment, her small back held something else — a loneliness so concentrated it was almost visible, trembling at the edges of her silhouette before she moved forward and let it go. “Your world is an anomaly. The boundary between the living present and the realm of the dead has collapsed. They’ve merged. ” The words hit like cold water poured slowly down his spine. “Human delusion given form — nightmare after nightmare tearing itself into being. It was exactly the kind of chaos you’d expect.” She kept walking. “The Yatagarasu Foundation and the Elysion Conglomerate worked together to stabilize what was left. But the next crisis was immediate: the struggle for dominance. Everyone is targeting you.” The vertigo that came over him was not physical. It was the sensation of discovering that your own existence has the gravitational mass of a catastrophe. “My ability — it’s that dangerous?” “If misused. Which is precisely why the world cannot afford to look away from you.” “But why —” She stopped before a garden door framed in climbing vines, dressed in color — olives and flowers plaited together over old timber. “The world is moving toward its end. SCP-001. The sun will turn everything into a burning hell. To rewrite that — to override The Automaton of Fate — someone has to take the initiative back from The Pendulum of Time. ” Each sentence landed in his stomach like stone. “But I think you’ll be okay.” She pushed the door open. “Come on.” Light poured through the frame — not a brightness but a current, pulling at him, drawing him toward something that wasn’t exactly forward. “This is my sister’s domain from here. Watch your step and don’t look down. ” He stepped through. The laws of physics had retired. A rainbow bridge — glass-smooth, chiming faintly underfoot — crossed a sea of cloud. The colors were not